Mindy, and her sister had been more like a mother to her since their mom died when Sierra was twelve.
“Jones Smith Accounting. We’ve been a client for the past five years. Zachery Jones was the partner I met with this morning. He’ll verify I was there between eight and ten thirty.”
The Texas Ranger wrote down the information she gave him, then glanced up.
She rose partway. “Now can I see Ben?”
“I know this is hard, but I have a few more questions. Have there been any threats against the clinic or one of the employees recently?”
She sat back down, trying to remember, but her mind felt as though it were on overload. She shook her head. “I don’t think...” Something nagged at her, but the thought stayed at the back of her mind, vague and muddy.
“What is it?” the Texas Ranger prompted.
She tried to focus, rubbing her forehead, and then she recalled. “It was last summer. There was a father who blamed Dr. Porter for his daughter’s death, but he was grieving at the sudden turn of events. Dr. Porter did everything he could.”
“Who?”
“I’d have to look back through the files.”
“Anyone else?”
“Another patient was mad because he was still in pain and wanted more medication. My sister wouldn’t write a prescription. She’s especially careful about that because of the opiate crisis. That situation happened last month. The guy’s name was Bruce Lockhart.” Tension pounded against her temples. Her nerves were stretched so tight she wondered if they would snap in two. “I can’t think of anyone else right now. I need to look through the appointment log and possibly the records. But even then, I might not be able to come up with more. I work all day in here, and don’t have a lot to do with the patients. Something could have happened, and I might not know about it.” She paused. “Although Mindy usually kept me informed, even about the employees’ personal life, but nothing to warrant this.”
“Are the doors to the clinic kept locked until it opens?”
“Yes. It gives the staff time to meet if needed.”
“Who has a key to the building?”
“I do. Also my sister, Dr. Porter and Colin Brewer. He’s a nurse and he’s been here from the beginning. Everyone who has a key also has the alarm system code. After the employees who don’t have a key arrive, the front door is locked until it’s time to open.”
He wrote down the names, the lines on his face deepening. “Where is Ben’s father?”
When Sierra thought about Kalvin and what he’d done, she couldn’t help but frown. “He left Kathleen a few months after Ben was born. He gave her full custody and walked away. He’s never contacted her. The last she knew he was overseas. That was a couple of years ago.”
“What does he do?”
“I don’t know. He was in security. That’s what he called it.”
“What is Ben’s father’s name?”
“Kalvin Markham.”
“When you say overseas, where?”
“The Middle East. I got the impression he moved around a lot.” Sierra massaged her temples, trying to rid her head of the increasing pain.
“What kind of arrangements did your sister have for Ben if anything happened to her?”
The conversation she and Kathleen had several years ago flooded her thoughts. She hadn’t wanted to discuss the issue, but her older sister had insisted. Kat had been practical about things while Sierra had wanted to avoid the what-ifs. She’d learned to live for the moment, although with her job and her part in Ben’s life that had been changing.
“I’m Ben’s guardian if anything happened to Kathleen. She has a will leaving everything to her son, with me being the executor of her will and his trustee until Ben turns twenty-one. She wanted to make sure Kalvin could never get ahold of her money, especially now that she was an established doctor.”
“How long has this clinic been open?”
“Five years.” She was done answering questions. She needed to see for herself that Ben was alive. She needed to hold him. “I’m sorry, but right now, I want to see my nephew. I don’t want him to think something happened to me, too.”
“Yes, I understand. We can continue this conversation later. I have some information to help me proceed with the investigation. I’ll be working with the SAPD on this case.” He rose. “The child psychologist should be through talking to Ben by now.”
Sierra grasped the arms of the chair and pushed herself to a standing position, her legs feeling as though she’d just finished a marathon run carrying twenty-pound weights. Following the Texas Ranger from her office, she kept her eyes forward, doing her best to avoid looking at Dr. Porter’s body. She was thankful two officers were blocking her view this time.
Texas Ranger Blackburn clasped the knob to one of the exam rooms. “Ben’s in here, and I would like him to remain here until all the bodies are removed. Dr. Porter is the last one. The child psychologist is Dr. John Yates.”
How did this officer deal with something like what happened at the clinic and remain so composed? She wanted to fall apart and cry until there was nothing left in her. But for Ben’s sake, she couldn’t.
She walked into the exam room first, immediately seeing her nephew huddled into a ball, his head buried against his knees. Her broken heart further shattered into thousands of pieces. She hurried to his side and placed her hand on his hunched back. “Ben, I’m here. You aren’t alone.”
Nothing.
She stroked his back, something she did when he was upset. “Ben, we’ll be able to leave here in a few minutes.”
Still not a word.
She glanced over her shoulder at the child psychologist. He signaled he wanted to talk with her outside in the hall. “I love you, Ben. I’ll be right back.”
She stepped outside with the man while the Texas Ranger stayed in the exam room. “Did he say anything to you?”
Dr. Yates shook his head. “No. Not one word. I was with him forty-five minutes. When he’s upset, does he refuse to talk?”
“Never. He can talk your ear off. What does this mean?”
“It’s possible he has traumatic muteness.”
“Will he ever talk again?”
“Hopefully. But he’s witnessed a horrific crime,” Dr. Yates said. “He was hiding in a cabinet. Your sister most likely put him there and told him not to say a word.”
Sierra paced toward the reception area, spied the bloodstain on the floor and turned back around. “What can we do, Dr. Yates? We’ve got to help him.”
“Please call me John. I would like
